


Marked

by WolfyWordWeaver



Series: Marked [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Thoughts of Self-harm, Unrequited Love, Violence, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Culture, non-consensual magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22841359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfyWordWeaver/pseuds/WolfyWordWeaver
Summary: It was supposed to be one quick job before the wedding, but Sirius Black finds that the crypts held more horror than the curses he had been expecting. Will Remus be able to save him in time?
Relationships: Fenrir Greyback & Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Marked [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748599
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> There is no physical rape/non-con. The non-con is strictly in magical use although the aftereffects are similar to dealing with any kind of non-consensual contact. Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and thoughts of self-harm.

There were many things that Sirius Black was good at. Balancing on the fine line of being proficient in the dark arts and being proficient at dismantling those ancient magical threads was one of those things that he was good at. Appraising priceless artifacts and telling them apart from the forgeries was another. Getting in and out of risky situations was another of his many talents and one that his lover was less than enthusiastic with. Unfortunately, the money that Sirius brought into their household with his job as a Curse Breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank was a hard thing to replace with other modes of work. Remus' research and academic writing alone would barely put a dent into their bills. Besides, Sirius wasn't too keen on finding a more "boring" job. 

Now that he was racing through the catacombs and nursing a broken arm, Sirius was beginning to reconsider those "boring" jobs. His wordless and wandless protective charms were far too weak to keep the raging beast from him for very long. His wand had been shattered along with his wand arm when that fucking animal caught him by surprise, and he had to make it past the ancient wards surrounding the tombs if he had a hope of Apparating even a short distance away. It was risky to do without his wand, but staying here was certain death. He'd have to take the chance. 

A rush of cold air greeted him as he took a side path that slipped behind some of the larger memorials to the dead and he was finally out of the underground labyrinth. He thanked the stars that he had always had a good sense of direction and an almost photographic memory. The grass under his feet was moist and the sky was already darkening. The fat heaviness of the moon was evident in the sky, but he thanked the stars again that it wasn't full yet. There probably wouldn't be any hope if it had been full.

Tripping over some stones, he tried to focus on the destination he needed to get to as well as the tide of magic that was rolling through his body. It would be best to stand still before attempting this, but he didn't want to risk it. Silver eyes were unseeing as he tried to picture his destination in all its clarity. Too late his brain registered the sounds coming from his right and he felt the full force of a tackle against his broken arm. A string of expletives and hexes spilled from his lips and he heard an unhappy yelp from the person who had tackled him to the ground. A solid punch landed on his cheekbone and Sirius immediately rolled over and retched on the damp grass, his head swimming and the pain blooming over his face and down his neck. A kick landed firmly in his gut and what little was left in his stomach was vomited up before a hand jerked his head back. Amber eyes glowered down at him and he could see the blossoming streak of bubbled skin from a burning hex that had landed.

"Don't kill him yet," a deep voice chided from behind them and it sent chills down Sirius' spine. 

"Yes, Alpha," the angry man grumbled as he shoved Sirius to the ground before stomping down on the broken arm.

An unbidden scream ripped from Sirius' throat at the agony before he snapped his mouth shut and forced his vocal cords to silence. Tears spilled from the corner of his eyes and all he could see was white spots behind the cover of his eyelids even after the pressure against the broken bone was relieved. His brain tried to visualize any location that he could Apparate to, but the pain kept skewing his focus and all he could really visualize was Remus' face. His brain thought that this was the end and all it wanted was to see that face. More clearly than he could visualize anything else, he could see the slight crookedness of that nose, the unmanageable texture of those curls, that smattering of freckles that always darkened in the summer sun, the small scar that ran along the underside of his perfectly kissable lips, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he was giving Sirius that special little smile.

"It wouldn't be a good idea to try any magic," the deep voice commanded. "I know that you do that wandless shit and I have no problem with breaking every single one of your fingers to prevent that."

Grey eyes opened to look at the man hovering dangerously over him and he felt his stomach drop. He recognized that face from the wanted posters that James would go through all the time.

"Fenrir," he growled, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Are you a Curse Breaker too?"

Sharpened teeth were exposed in a wicked grin. "Not at all. This is purely a personal visit."

"Oh?" Sirius swallowed back a whimper as he felt the throbbing agony of his broken arm. "We could have had a nice visit without all the broken bones, you arse."

This caused the old werewolf to laugh heartily, while the other man who Sirius guessed was another werewolf just frowned in annoyance.

"Where's the fun in that, wizard?"

Sirius worked himself up into a sitting position, glad that his other arm was still mostly useful. "I can think of a lot of fun things that don't involve broken bones," he shot back. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Fenrir tossed the broken remnants of his wand at his feet and Sirius again schooled his face to remain impassive. He couldn't show weakness. The hulking figure crouched down to be closer to eye-level with his victim. 

"Does Remus ever talk about me?" he asked too sweetly, the name of Sirius' fiancé rolling off that tongue obscenely. 

He couldn't keep his body from bristling angrily. "Not at all," he growled back quickly.

"Hmm, that's too bad," Fenrir replied with a chuckle. "I think about him all the time."

"What the fuck do you want?" Sirius pressed with barely contained fury. "Surely you're not just here to chat about Remus."

There was an unwelcomed sigh of longing from the old werewolf and Sirius almost couldn't keep himself from launching forward to punch the living daylights out of Fenrir. He wouldn't get more than a single blow landed if that in his current situation. It was this fucker's fault that Remus endured nightmares well past the end of the war. There were so many things that he had to endure in order to carry out Dumbledore's orders of spying on the werewolf pack under Fenrir and no amount of love and whispered sweet nothings had been able to remove those memories. He had been getting slowly better this past year, but contact with this monster would be sure to undo all the progress that they had been making towards emotional healing.

"You'd be surprised with how much I have to say about my disobedient little pup," Fenrir grinned, his golden eyes raking over the tense figure in front of him. "But you're right, we're not here just to talk about him." Sirius felt the end of a wand jab threateningly into his ribs thanks to the other werewolf. "Actually, you're only here at all so that I can send a message to him. 

Sirius paled. Up until that moment he was hopeful that maybe Fenrir had been hired by someone to get at the treasures in the crypt or maybe to rough him up a little for a piece stolen, but that small hope was completely snuffed out. They were going to hurt Remus somehow, and he couldn't let them do that. Panic overwhelmed all of his thinking faculties and he kicked out ferociously at Fenrir's face with his heavy riding boots, not even really taking pleasure in the crunch of a broken nose. His good arm swung straight into the other werewolf's face and the surprise attack managed to get him in the nose too albeit without enough force to break the cartilage. Blood was pounding in his ears as he grasped the fallen wand from the cursing werewolf and he barely had time to think of the proper incantation before a meaty hand angrily knocked him over the back of the head. All vision went out for a few seconds before he collapsed to the ground and he felt his good arm twisted painfully behind his back before his jumbled brain could make sense of his fingers being manipulated into position and a horrifying new pain shot through his whole body. There was a loud scream ringing in his ears and he barely registered that it was his own voice making that sound. Hot blood poured freely down his pinned arm and a spitting sound from Fenrir preceded the sight of a familiar finger with an engagement ring still wrapped around it landing in front of his line of vision.

"That'll make a nice present for Remus," Fenrir laughed with a strangely wet and muffled sound. "Ragnar, fix my fucking nose."

Shock was taking over Sirius' system now. They were going to hurt Remus and there was nothing that he could do about it. Grey eyes remained fixed on the jagged exposed flesh of the severed finger, the brain refusing to acknowledge its loss. 

_"Will you marry me?" Remus had asked, hazel eyes full of adoration and hope._

_Scarred hands held his pale one, those fingers delicately pushing the ring onto his finger after his exuberant and positive response._

The sound of his left arm being jerked out of socket brought him back to the present and Sirius felt nothing but horror and remorse.

**

Sirius stared blankly at the base of the tree trunk, his pounding head having difficulty processing any thoughts at all. Hadn't he been on a job in some crypts? The sun was coming up over the horizon and his whole body was chilled and shaking. The discomfort of being cold was quickly overcome by pains so numerous that he wondered what kind of curse he stepped into. Maybe he should have accepted the offer of backup to these crypts, but it had seemed like such a straightforward job. He was supposed to be heading home to Remus today, home to a warm bath and lazy lovemaking. This was his last job before the wedding and he didn't want to be late. Remus wouldn't forgive him if they had to reschedule the wedding again. It took him a few minutes to notice the bloody hand within his field of vision and another minute to realize that it was his own hand. The fingers flexed stiffly and when he turned it palm-up he stared stupidly. Dried blood was crusted over the jagged flesh of a knuckle, an empty gap where his ring finger should have been. Both the finger and his engagement ring were gone.

Damn, where had he misplaced those?

Remus was going to kill him.

Oh, fuck.

The sound of panic he choked on brought a deep chuckle to the figure behind him and Sirius whipped his head around to see Fenrir watching him carefully, dried blood still smeared crassly along his chin. 

"Good morning," the insane dark creature greeted politely.

"Leave Remus out of this," he responded, not able to keep the desperation out of his hoarse voice. 

Fenrir shrugged. "I actually have no beef with you, wizard. This has all been for Remus."

"Why?! Why can't you fucking leave him alone?!"

At this Fenrir grinned widely. "He's mine and I don't like what belongs to me running off and pretending to be something they're not."

"But you didn't even fucking know he was alive until the war!" Sirius shot back angrily. "You didn't fucking care about him before! You have no say in his damn life, you monster!"

"Yes, that was a rather regretful oversight on my part," he admitted conversationally. "But it doesn't matter. I'm still his sire and he will learn to obey like the bitch he is."

"He's not a bitch to anyone!" Sirius bit out in fury. "Much less a mongrel like you!"

The angrier he got, the more pleased Fenrir seemed, but he just couldn't keep his temper in check. Everything in his body hurt and his heart hurt even worse. They were going to goad Remus into a confrontation and Remus could get hurt or killed. All he could hope for was that Remus wouldn't lose his mind and come looking for Sirius alone. He needed to bring at least James and Peter as backup to deal with this deranged monster and his henchman. Standing to his feet, the large werewolf dragged Sirius up by the back of his jacket and shoved him forward.

"Start walking, wizard. I may yet leave you alive."

It wasn't a promising statement, but it was something. The longer he lived, the better chance he had of keeping Remus alive too. Although, maybe it would be better just to die quickly so that he couldn't be used as a bargaining chip to lure Remus out. It was a hard decision to try to make, and it was even harder with the pounding headache and likely concussion. Sirius knew that he could be very annoying and could probably goad the large man into killing him, but he just couldn't decide which outcome would be best for Remus. His fiancé had suffered through enough in this life without needlessly blaming himself for the death of Sirius. If Sirius died today, he didn't want for Remus to have to carry any guilt for it. But how could he get that across to Remus?

Both arms hung uselessly at his side, aching sharply with each stride. Sirius was glad that his legs were still mostly functional, but each breath reminded him of his broken and bruised ribs. He kept marching, the quiet threat of the cruel man behind him enough motivation to keep walking. He wasn't terribly familiar with the surrounding area, but he knew enough to know that they were heading further away from civilization. It took another hour of walking before he realized that tonight was the full moon. That's why he had planned on being home today! But that realization also came with the sinking suspicion that the full moon was every bit the reason that Fenrir hadn't killed him outright yet. He wanted to hurt Remus, and there would be no way to hurt him more than turning Sirius into the very thing that Remus hated the most. 

"Were's your bodyguard?" he asked with a calm voice, hoping to keep Fenrir's attention away from the fact that he was trying to gather his magic enough for a spell or two. It would be even more difficult with useless arms as that's how he was best at casting without a wand, but he could make do.

"He's around," Fenrir replied easily. He seemed far too calm for the situation. "And don't think that I can't scent out your magic, wizard. Try anything and I'll take another couple of fingers. Maybe a hand. You don't need two of them."

Despair crashed over the young man and he stumbled a bit. He was exhausted and overwhelmed. There was no way out of the situation but to hope that Remus and the others could find him before the full moon. If not...

"Are you planning on turning me?" His voice remained rather calm, all things considered. "Or eating me?"

"So you noticed the moon?" There was a dark chuckle. "I didn't know if you bothered to keep up with the cycles."

"Of course!" he snapped back irritably. "I happen to care about Remus, you worthless fuck. I always keep up with the lunar cycles."

Fenrir didn't seem bothered by the heated response. "It depends on you, I suppose," he laughed instead. "My wolf enjoys a good struggle. Since I don't control him it's always up in the air."

"Why are we walking? Wouldn't it be better for you to rest and save up your energy for the transformation?"

"Unlike Remus, I don't fight my transformations as much so it's not as tiring." This bit of information surprised the captive wizard. "And we're walking to give him a trail to scent you out. It'll be more fun this way."

"You're being awfully...honest."

"Why shouldn't I be?" the large man asked with another deep laugh. "It's not like you have the chance to escape."

"Remus could always come and rescue me," Sirius shot back testily.

"I hope he does," Fenrir replied, the smile evident in his voice. "But I'm sure it will take him a little bit of time. We sent off a little package for him just this morning. Depending on the owl, he might not even get it in time to do anything today. It might be morning before he can begin his search for you."

The day dragged on and Sirius felt his body grow weaker and weaker. That had probably been the intention, he decided as the sky lit up in the fiery blazes of sunset. No food, no water, severe injuries, and constant walking. He was only still wavering on his feet out of sheer stubbornness and wondered if Moony would be proud of him. Not that it mattered. He was going to be the death of his fiancé.

 _"No, no - think positive!"_ his brain tried. _"Remus is a bad ass motherfucker and he could take on Fenrir barehanded if he needed to. Don't start doubting him now!"_

But nothing seemed to look hopeful in this situation. He stumbled again, but this time fell to his knees. Expecting Fenrir to start yelling or hitting him again, Sirius was surprised when no such thing happened.

"This is good enough," Fenrir stated instead. He sat on the grass next to Sirius, looking to the casual observer like a friend or companion. "You're welcome to rest as long as you can. I won't give you any other advantages when the changes happen."

It was truly shocking to see a werewolf not acting like he was in terrible pain this close to the moon, but Sirius supposed that he wasn't close enough to really know Fenrir's tells. He had known Remus for half of his life and had spent a great deal of time studying everything about his lover. Fenrir was practically a stranger and a tough son of a bitch if his list of crimes against mankind were any indication. Maybe he was more subdued or grumpy than usual. It didn't matter anyway. With a heavy sigh, Sirius sunk down to his side as best as he could with the broken and dislocated bones and tried to get some rest. The aches of each breath kept him from fully falling asleep, but it was better than nothing. His half-asleep mind made its plan and he knew that he needed to rest up as much as possible.

By the time the sky was completely darkened, the tall man was pacing around his captive in agitation. He didn't snap at Sirius yet, and the young man tried to keep it that way. He didn't want to aggravate the werewolf right now as he needed to wait for the right opportunity, and the best one that he had would be during Fenrir's transformation. There was really only one option available to Sirius right now and he began to mentally steel himself for the pain that he was about to endure. He needed to be able to make this work or he really was as good as dead. His mental preparation was a meditation that he had learned while going through the painstaking process of becoming an Animagus. It was a skill that he had scoffed at when they first had to do it, but years later found it to be almost as useful as the dog form itself. The meditation had allowed him to figure out how to dismantle a great deal of curses and how to work through many relational issues with Remus. It had been useful for managing the pain of his severe injuries, and he was thankful to find that it was still the case. Fenrir still payed him no attention, his eyes more often hunting out the celestial body that was in command of his life and blood this one day a month. 

Sirius also used the large man's agitated state to his advantage by slowly channeling his magic into his injured arms, working to mend them as well as he could wordlessly and wandlessly. It wasn't much help, as he wasn't that good at healing spells even with his wand but again, any advantage he could get was one he needed. Remus, Remus, Remus - it's all that he could think about. He had promises to keep and a lifetime to live with the man and Sirius would do whatever it took to make it out alive. The chorus on nocturnal animals began and he half-watched Fenrir stomp around a bit more before he started divesting himself of clothing. The other brute, Ragnar, was still nowhere to be seen but Sirius was sure that he wasn't too far. It made sense for Fenrir to keep him as a backup guard in case Sirius gave him the slip. 

Fenrir huffed and then crouched down near Sirius, completely uncaring of his state of nakedness. "It's your choice if you want to get up and run or not. I don't particularly care. There isn't much time left and it looks like Lupin isn't going to be making it tonight."

The wizard grieved for the pain and anxiety that Remus must be going through. "I hope he doesn't come at all. He doesn't need the displeasure of ever seeing you again."

"Heh, you've got quite the mouth on you, wizard," the werewolf chuckled darkly. "If you live it might be fun to have you in the pack as well."

"I'd never serve under you," Sirius shot back, but he wasn't sure how seriously he could be taken as a half-dead guy still laying on the ground. 

"You'll learn," Fenrir cooed and the black-haired man felt the shudder travel down his body. He never wanted to learn to be like this beast.

It wasn't that being a werewolf in itself made Fenrir a monster - it was what he chose to do with his curse. Remus always worked to be responsible about dealing with the curse, so conscious of keeping others out of harms way and turning on himself rather than hurting anyone else. He was also so careful to keep his superhuman strength in check and never made a fuss about his sensitive nose. Fenrir liked to take all the aspects of the wolf and turn it into a way to terrorize wizards and muggles alike. He wanted to spread fear and hate as far as he could, purposefully sharing the curse with as many people as he could, especially children. Sirius wondered at a person who was so monstrous that they didn't feel any remorse for the hurts and damage they inflicted on innocent and helpless children.

That was more monstrous than any curse passed down to mankind.

"Remus is a better man and wolf than you'll ever be," Sirius growled. "All you'd do is hold him back."

Fenrir shrugged before standing up and making canine huffing sounds. It was the first time that Sirius found himself wondering if maybe some of the things he'd heard about the old werewolf were wrong. He wasn't really much like the black-haired man expected and he'd never really heard much from Remus himself. Those nightmares were his own private hell and he chose not to share much of them with his lover. Maybe, he wondered as he watched the muscular man pace anxiously, the real reason that Remus feared him so much was because he wasn't the monster the wizards proclaimed he was, but rather he was a lot more like the Marauders were. Still, it was a little hard to justify dragging a man's fiancé out into the woods on a full moon with the intention to kill or turn him. 

People were so complicated.

The sounds of muscles ripping and bones breaking came before the delicate rays of moonlight were visible to Sirius' eyes, but he was well aware of what to expect. How many moons had he watched or listened to the horrible pains of Remus in transformation? It was almost less grotesque to see it happening to someone that he didn't care for at all. For that, he was grateful - it made transforming into Padfoot so much easier.

The shift into his Animagus form was blessedly much quicker than what werewolves went through and he didn't even need to worry about putting his clothes off to the side. A yipping whimper escaped his snout as he forced all four legs into the motions of running. The bones in one leg were still broken, although it seemed now more like a severe crack and not a complete fracture. The other leg had been pulled back into place, but all the tissues around it were still highly inflamed and agitated. Ribs still ached and nerves screamed in agony but he raced away as fast as he could. Moony could always outrun him and he was a runt compared to Fenrir and Ragnar. Canine senses were already attuned to the surrounding area and he felt a disappointment that Moony really hadn't come. It wasn't fair because he wouldn't have had enough time to find Sirius due to the full moon, but a tiny portion of himself had wanted that. He had wanted Remus to come in all fangs bared and claws swiping to save and protect him. It was a romantic notion, and reality was not that romantic. Reality was running through grass and dirt with blood on your muzzle and tongue and the sounds of heavy paws pounding on the ground behind you.

**

"You see, little doggie?" The deep rumble of a voice was heavy, but not as heavy as the hand pressed against the back of his neck. "I love to hunt."

"Fuck off," Sirius growled tiredly.

"That's actually a pretty neat trick," Fenrir continued. "It makes a little more sense why Remus would keep you around. Still, it's no reason to abandon his own kind." 

"This 'trick' is a hell of a lot more advanced magic than you'll ever know, bastard."

The giant hand rubbed over the still bleeding teeth marks and Fenrir laughed as he leaned in to sniff at the back of Sirius' neck. "You didn't turn. Not even a hint of the curse in your wounds."

"Like I didn't fucking know that." Sirius was completely exhausted and now his legs were broken too. "So what now? We just sit here waiting for Remus to fetch me?"

Fenrir licked his lips as he looked up at Ragnar. The younger werewolf looked pretty beat as well. Padfoot had given them a run for their money last night and he would normally be able to muster some pride in that, but this morning it only felt like a useless waste of time. Remus wasn't going to be able to find him for a while yet, not while he had to recover. Maybe it would have been better to let them rip him apart, save Remus the aggravation of a strung-out search.

"You know, I'm not even that angry anymore," Fenrir muttered. "The Wolf liked you last night. You knew how to play with him. He wouldn't have even needed to break your legs. That was all me. I'm not above admitting my jealousy."

"Jealousy?" Sirius murmured against the clump of dirt pressed into his face.

The tall, muscular body stretched out against his bruised side. "Yes, jealousy. I offered Remus something special, you see. I offered to give him something that is precious to us werewolves and he rejected it." Thick fingers ran lightly over the sharp angles of Sirius' jaw. "He refused to take my mark because he was already in love with someone else."

"Your mark?" 

There was a nod and a small smile. "I wanted to mate him, to use the most ancient powers of our kind to bind him to my soul forever. But it was you he loved. It was you that he picked over me, even then. I suppose that he loves you even more now."

Sirius thought of their engagement, of all the ups and downs they had endured before, during, and after the war. He thought of their wedding, only a couple of days away. Everything was ready save for the two grooms. 

"There's no need to be jealous," he finally murmured. "You'll find a person to love too."

"I already did," Fenrir sighed. "He was it for me. I knew it the moment he came back to me." Those sharp teeth glinted in the morning light as he grinned coldly. "And I think that it's appropriate that he feel the same pain as I do."

Confusion clouded behind Sirius' eyes as he watched the calmness over Fenrir's features. "Are you going to kill me with your human hands, Fenrir?"

"No," he replied in a whisper. "I'm going to do something much worse."

A lighting bolt of pain shot down his neck and shoulder and Sirius couldn't keep in the primal scream. Broken limbs shook uselessly as he felt a strange magic being forced into his body and through his bloodstream at the entry wound of the bite still digging into him. The crushing weight of the large man pressed against the front of his body and the cold earth pressed against his back. There was no escape even as he cried out. He couldn't even form the name of Remus in his screams, a new name being imprinted on even molecule of his body. This magic was different than any he had felt or learned, and it carried the heaviness of old rituals and blood sacrifices. It invaded every inch of him, poisoned his own streams of magic, and folded itself into the crevices of his mind. Fingers clutched the naked muscles of Fenrir's arms, confused at if they were trying to push him away or pull him even closer. The hot tongue lapped over the jagged wounds of the flesh, harshly pressing into the punctured skin and tasting at the branded blood. 

"It took," he could hear the distant voice of Ragnar confirming, and Sirius felt as if he had just been given a life sentence.

"Now," Fenrir purred into his ear, "he will know what it is to love what he cannot have. Remus will long for you every minute of his life, but will know that there is only one person that you can ever desire. You can play house with him, pretend that nothing is different, and even fuck, but it will always be my name you call, my face you'll see, my arms you'll want to run to. I can already see that you'll fight it and that won't bother me one bit. In fact, I think that I'll relish it even more."

"Y-you bastard," he choked out, one hand pressed against the open wound at his neck. Horror could not begin to describe the agony rolling through Sirius. He could already feel the dark creature's magic at work.

With one pat to the head, Fenrir rolled up to his feet and stretched lazily. He threw a wink at the trembling wizard and began heading off in the direction that Sirius presumed led to his clothes. The man offered one last statement.

"I'll be seeing you around, pet, if you survive."

As he felt the white static of overwhelm fuzz out his thoughts, Sirius hoped that he wouldn't make it. 

**

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked softly as Sirius stared blankly at the wall in front of him. 

It had been over 24 hours since Remus and James had found him, near dead but still breathing, and Sirius hadn't really been able to say much at all besides _let me die_. He didn't know if Remus could smell the magic on him, but he knew that they had both seen the bite. James had nearly lost it completely, thinking it was a bite that turned him, but the young werewolf had quickly scented him out and determined that he wasn't a werewolf. Sirius thought that outcome would have been preferable to what Fenrir had actually done to him. In the hours that he had to reflect, Sirius realized that he had been basically magically raped. His body had been used against its will, a binding magic forced onto him without consent. There was nothing that he could do to undo it all, no magic that he knew of that could break a magic bond like this. It was akin to the old-blood binding rituals that Purebloods once used for marriages. It was an insult to all the love and hard work shared between the two men.

He felt the tentative presence of Remus sitting behind him on the bed, could hear the breathy inhales as Remus tried to figure out what that new strange smell Sirius carried meant. Maybe he knew and was just trying to ignore the reality of the situation. Sirius didn't have the luxury. Even now his blood was boiling in desire for that cursed man. That blasphemous man. His own thin fingers clenched desperately against his thighs, and there was a moment of confusion as he tried to remember that he was down one finger. Fenrir had taken and broken too much. 

"Please talk to me," Remus whispered, his voice trembling. He was still trying to recover from the full moon, the wolf nearly tearing itself to pieces and then forcing himself at the sunrise to go on the hunt for Sirius. 

Tears pricked at his eyes and Sirius clenched them shut tightly. He didn't want to admit what had happened, to break Remus' tender heart. It wasn't fair. But if he didn't talk, Remus was just going to assume the worst and hurt himself. 

"I'm sorry," Sirius croaked as he curled into a tighter ball.

"Oh love," Remus tried to soothe, the words raking painfully through Sirius' mind. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's my fault for not getting to you more quickly." There was a hint of a sob in those words. 

"It's..." Sirius choked on the words, no dendrite in his brain wanting to confess. But he had to. "Do you know what this bite is?" he finally whispered, fingers brushing up against the bandage on his neck.

Remus curled up behind him. "He tried to turn you, love. It's okay, it didn't take. I mean, it's still a cursed wound, but it'll be okay."

The naivety only made Sirius want to cry even harder. How many conversations had they had about Sirius wanting Remus to mark him properly? How many times had Remus scoffed about doing something so "savage" and "uncivilized" and that a marriage bond would do just fine thank you very much? Could they even perform a magical marriage bond anymore with this curse coursing through his blood?

"He knew that I didn't turn," Sirius forced out, his head pounding with a tension headache. He wanted nothing more than to sleep and awake in the world that was before he had gone off on just one more stupid job before their wedding. "That was the other bites." 

Remus' arm tightened around his waist and he could hear the flaring nostrils scenting him out again. The Wolf, usually quiet after the Full Moon was angry. They both had been furious to see the state Fenrir had left him in. "He will pay for the harm that he inflicted on you," the deep voice growled threateningly. 

Instead of feeling safe and loved with those words, Sirius felt a rising panic and a desperation to _protect_. Oh, Godric, he wanted to die. "Remus," he whispered tightly, intact fingers digging into the other man's forearm. "I'm so sorry. _I'm so fucking sorry_."

"Love, you did nothing wrong," Remus tried to comfort again, the words falling empty.

"He marked me, Remus," he whispered again, voice probably not loud enough to be heard by human ears. "It's a mating mark, Remus."

There was the sudden tension that snapped through Remus' body behind him, like he had been slapped across the face. They were supposed to be getting married tomorrow. Their closest friends were supposed to be there, cheering and congratulating that the two fools had _finally_ gotten hitched. They had been engaged for longer than Peter had been in a relationship with his wife, for longer than James had been married and been a father. They had been together since puberty had decided to make things like romantic relationships interesting. They had survived a fucking war. Together. 

Sirius and Remus.

Remus and Sirius.

But now there was Fenrir.

Sirius sobbed openly, not caring that he felt like a hormonal teenager again. Remus pulled away and walked to the living room where he began making phone calls.

**

Dumbledore frowned in pity and Sirius tried not to crumple in despair. It's not like he expected it to work.

"I'm sorry," the old wizard sighed as he set down his wand. "It's as we feared. The bond will not take with one of you already bonded to someone else."

Remus' grip on the edge of the table created a crack in the grain before he schooled his limbs into a more relaxed posture. The wedding had been cancelled and they had desperately called on Dumbledore to try and see if any of the ancient soul-bonding spells could bind them and undo the magic Fenrir had cast. They had tried all spells known to the older man, and even the Black family's secret incantations.

"I'm going to kill him," Remus growled, the amber more evident in his usually green eyes. 

Sirius bit his lip and tried to not make a big show of how negatively those words affected him. He wanted to attack Remus, to yell and curse at him for saying such a thing. He needed to protect his mat- NO. Sirius wouldn't allow himself to even _think_ of that word in the context of Fenrir. Sympathetic blue eyes seemed to understand anyway.

"Remus," Dumbledore stated softly as he placed a wrinkled hand over the tense man's shoulder. "I'm not sure that doing such a thing would help the situation any, and it might in fact make things worse."

"Worse?!" Remus shouted back, shaking the hand off his shoulder. He almost had the bloodlust painted over his face in the absolute rage. "How could things get fucking worse?!"

Dumbledore was unfazed. "Please, Remus. Sirius has been forced into a bond that reaches all the way to his soul. If you kill Fenrir now, you will be forcibly ripping a piece of his soul away. He will be suffering far worse than he does now."

All fight seemed to deflate at those words and Remus sunk into his chair miserably. "What are we supposed to do, then?"

"I'm currently in communications with Newt Scamander. Dark Creatures are not his specialty but he has many contacts and he is doing research into this werewolf bonding magic. There may be a way to sever the connection, but I dare say it would be impossible if anyone involved dies or gets killed."

Sirius scrubbed his face with a hand, hating the way his heart thrilled at any mention of Fenrir's name, cursing his desire to run out the door and go hunting for his...for that werewolf. It was like Remus meant nothing to him anymore, was just another nameless face in the crowd. As much as his brain wanted to scream that no, Remus was his _everything_ , his heart was blinded. 

"I don't know how long I can stand this," Sirius stated in a mixture of anger and desperation.

Remus looked over at him in agony and Sirius didn't want to think to hard on what _this_ meant. How long he could pretend to still want Remus? How long he could live with wanting Fenrir? How long he could deal with dark creature magic running through his veins?

"We're going to do everything we can," Dumbledore tried to comfort. Remus and Sirius just stared at the table, the newest crack in its surface glaringly obvious. "Don't do anything rash, and I'll owl as soon as I hear back from Newt."

"Thanks," Remus gritted out before he stood and walked the man to the fireplace.

Sirius wondered what their chances were of making it through another month at this rate. If the oldest and wisest wizard still around (that he knew of) couldn't help, what would they do?

There was deathly silence after the sound of the floo faded. Sirius caught himself staring longingly at the front door that could lead to Fenrir before the wave of revulsion crashed over him and he raced into their guest bedroom. He couldn't stand the smell of his scent mingled with Remus right now.

**

It had only been two weeks after the incident with no news of the whereabouts of Fenrir and no positive news from Newt or Dumbledore. Sirius smiled shakily as Harry cheered loudly at getting his play Quaffle past James and into the practice goal. He tried to ignore the side-glance Lily sent his way before she scooted closer to Remus and whispered something in his ear. He didn't need to have the overly sensitive werewolf ears to know what they were talking about. Two weeks of him and Remus doing their best to ignore the Mark, pretending that everything was okay. Two weeks of Remus not saying anything about Sirius not getting his engagement ring resized and put on another finger. Two weeks of sleeping separately after over a decade of sharing a bed. They had tried sex once, desperate for their love to overcome anything, and it had ended in the disaster of hurt feelings and hopelessness. 

All of their friends seemed to know and tried desperately to act like they didn't. It was all a facade of normalcy and Sirius was eroding. He had always been the one to follow his impulses, to give into the carnal and hedonistic desires - but they had always been directed at Remus before. Anything else felt wrong and foreign. This consuming need to find someone else, to bask in their affection - it was killing him. It was a cancer that was eating away at his insides and leaving them to rot and fester until he was nothing more than a husk of poison. 

"Hey, mate!" James called over. "How about a quick one-on-one to show Harry how it's really done?"

"Yeah!" Harry squealed as he raced over on legs that seemed to grow longer every time Sirius came over. The almost five-year-old was just as obsessed with Quidditch as his old man was. "I want to see you on a broom, Uncle Siri!"

"You just want to see your dad get his arse kicked again," he teased half-heartedly. 

"No way!" Harry responded heatedly, those green eyes flashing. "My dad's the best! No one beats him!" As if Harry hadn't just scored on him a few seconds ago.

Sirius wondered if he had ever been so enamored with his own parents. "We'll just have to see about that, Harry." 

The warmth of the wood under his fingers and between his thighs was an instant comfort and he felt like he was breathing for the first time in weeks. It was the first thing that he had done with magic since Fenrir left him and he was relieved to feel that his waves of magic didn't feel strange or tainted like he feared they would. Maybe he could finally go out and get a new wand now. James tossed a regulation-sized Quaffle towards him and no sooner did Sirius catch it then they all heard a loud piercing howl off in the distance over the hills and woodlands behind the Potter estate. Chills raced over his skin and Sirius had already landed and taken a few steps towards the sound before he caught himself and jerked to a halt. 

"Fuck!" James hissed.

Lily was already pulling Harry towards the house, her pregnant belly bumping against his head. "Come on, Harry."

"What's-"

"We'll come outside later," she comforted in a tone that let Harry know this was not the time to argue. "Now, in you go."

There was an unnatural silence in the air for a moment before another howl came up and Sirius groaned painfully as he resisted the call. Silver eyes were fixed over towards the distance, but he could feel the presence of Remus against his back. Hands that were so familiar softly dug into his hips with fingers clenched in either desperation or rage. Maybe even both. 

"You...you can go," the ragged voice whispered against the shell of his ear, a breath that once had made his knees turn to jelly. Arms wrapped around his waist pulling him in even as his words spoke otherwise. "It's okay, Sirius. I understand. It's not your fault. I still love you."

"I..." Sirius didn't know what he wanted to do. He wanted for things to be like they had been before, not this purgatory of desire.

"It's okay," Remus whispered again, a spot growing damp on Sirius' shoulder where he was burying his face now. "I won't give up on you, but you can go. I know that it must hurt so much."

James was off to the side, pacing in frustration. 

"N-no," Sirius forced out as he stepped back further into Remus' arms. He forced his eyes closed and steeled his resolve. "I'm not going to Fenrir. I love you, Remus." 

Sirius prayed to every ancient god he could remember that there was a way to make sure that he never did crumble to the pressure, that he could find a way to forever be with the man he had chosen so long ago.

**

Remus was sleeping soundly in his bedroom, exhausted from another unhappy full moon. The Aurors knew that Fenrir was in the area, but try as hard as they could none of them had been able to arrest him before the night of transformation. Moony had been furious with Padfoot and with the wards that kept him from going after Fenrir and tearing him to shreds. Sirius had to admit defeat and leave the transformed werewolf to its own destructive devices or risk being killed himself. It had been a tempting thought, as Moony's teeth had dug into his shoulder and that clawed arm batted at him with the intent to hurt rather than play. Sirius knew that all he had to do was wait around and Moony's rage would put an end to all of his agony, but he couldn't do that to Remus. Not to the Remus who apologized profusely even as Sirius tried to bandage his own self-inflicted wounds, whose angry tears often fell on behalf of Sirius. Not to Remus, the only one he had loved. 

This feeling he had for Fenrir was not love.

It was an obsession forced upon him, a vile curse that was tainted with jealousy. The Mark was meant to be a copulation between willing lovers, binding their souls together as their bodies would be united. It was a gift given amidst the hurts of the werewolf curse, a joy for their lover for life. To belong. Forced on another it was a poison meant to control and destroy. Sirius refused to bend to the compulsion, but he didn't know how long he could resist the desire for destruction. 

Sitting in the hot water of the bath he had drawn, he stared at the muggle straight-razor Remus had always used to shave. Sirius had done his best to tend to all the wounds and care for the exhausted and hurting man. He had fed him soup and tucked enchanted hot water bottles all around him before tucking him in for the night. Their romantic love might have been marred by the curse, but it could do nothing for the fraternal love between them. It was a love even deeper than that, Sirius supposed. The Greeks called it _agape_ love, the one love that was deepest. The self-sacrificing love. Sirius knew that Remus would never leave him. Even if he succumbed to the calls of Fenrir, Remus would watch from a distance, always hoping and always searching. There would be no life for Remus outside of the desperation to overcome that old magic. There would be no life for Sirius but fearing that he would give in one day. 

It was better this way he thought, the metallic blade gliding over the surface of the water and the steam fogging over its curve. Remus could properly grieve for him, for _them,_ and then move on. For all the hardships that Remus had to needlessly deal with, being stuck in his love-life shouldn't be one of them. The werewolf had been turned against his will and had his lover ruined by that same bastard. Sirius smiled softly as he thought that with one deep cut he could finally give Remus the permission he needed to kill Fenrir. There would be nothing to hold him back from exacting his revenge, and Sirius knew from experience just how diabolical Remus could be when planning such things. Fenrir would finally know hurt and fear and pain. He would regret ever daring to impede on Remus' life again. 

The scrape of metal against the surface of the skin was achingly familiar. All those mornings he would sit and just watch Remus shave the Muggle way, completely entranced. The few times that he asked Remus to do it for him, lifting his chin and exposing his neck just the way he knew would drive Moony wild. Grey eyes watched the blade scrape over the naked underside of his forearm before trailing it up to the ugly scarred knuckle where a ring and finger once resided. He never asked Remus what had been done to the finger, just assumed that it had ruined beyond magic's ability to reunite it with its body. 

Ruined. 

Just like the rest of his body had been. 

Leaning his head back into the hot water, Sirius allowed his eyes to close and his mind to wander down the same threads of thought. 


End file.
